


A Little Bit of Heaven

by HillaryLeonor (orphan_account)



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 20th c., Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/HillaryLeonor
Summary: [Angel AU] Hot Springs, Arkansas. 1979. An angel falls from the sky and she brings a little bit of heaven with her.A story told in small pieces.





	1. Her Name Is Hillary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnirtakShenwoi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnirtakShenwoi/gifts), [PoetrytoProse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoetrytoProse/gifts).



> That baby blue dress Hillary wore? Yeah, that got me writing a new fic hahahaha. Each chapter will have 500 words or less. I am also tagging the some of the dear friends because I want to challenge them for a 500 word challenge. If you are tagged, tag other authors as well. Fic challenges are fun!

_**Hot Springs, Arkansas. 1979** _

She opens her eyes with her vision as hazy as a foggy morning.  Her head is pounding so much, she is almost dizzy. She is confused and demented at the same time; she has no recollection of anything before she opened her eyes. It’s as if she’s born an adult, with a clean slate of memories and no identity to begin with. Her befuddlement only adds to the pain that already threatens to split her head into two. She needs to seek relief soon.

She gets up from the hard surface in which she lied upon. She groans in pain. Apparently, her back is aching too. And so is the rest of her body. Her muscles are sore, and it prevents her from properly standing. Did…did she fall from the sky or something?

She looks down and notices that she is barefoot. The rough surface of the pavement scratches against her feet. It isn't really painful, but she’s sure her feet will get blisters if she tries to walk a long distance, which is likely since she doesn't know where she is. She looks to her surroundings. Long lines of unfamiliar structures occupy her vision. She feels she is on an entirely different planet. And right in front of her are contraptions, like some sort of carriage that’s powered by steam engine and not horses. Amazing! She gazed those at mechanical carriages in awe as they move right in front of her eyes.

She hears something zoom. She looks around, but there was nothing that could have caused that noise. She realizes that the noise is coming from above. She looks up and sees something that looked like a metallic bird, flying across the sky. Stupendous! There are flying objects in the sky! Like large kites that have no strings on them!

She marvels at the world she is in. So progressive! The houses - or at least she thinks they are - are totally different! And the people...the people are dressed differently than what she remembers.

Wait...she remembers! She remembers something! She isn’t completely clueless at all!

"Hillary!" said a voice from afar, catching her attention.

She turns around to look who called. For some reason, she responds to that name. She has heard people calling each other during the time that she’s awake, but somehow, the name Hillary is the one that caused a reaction out of her.

Why? Is Hillary someone she knows?

“Hillary, come here!”

There it is again. The voice. Intrigued, she follows the direction of the voice. She runs as fast as her legs could carry her. The voice is still calling the name. A raspy voice that has a peculiar accent. Finally, she finds the owner of the voice. A tall, handsome man with auburn hair calls for a woman, who begins taking notes as the man dictates his orders.  

Suddenly, she realizes why responds to that name.

Hillary. Her name is Hillary.


	2. A Taste of Heaven

Bill dictates his orders as his chief of staff, Hillary Klugman feverishly takes down notes. He’s about to leave his childhood home for the Governor’s Mansion in Little Rock. He’s just in Hot Springs for a short visit to his mother, whom he hasn’t seen in months.

“And Hillary, call Clark right away. Tell him I want a meeting with him. 7 pm sharp, tomorrow.”

Klugman nods and quickly rides the car behind the Governor’s limo.

Just as when Bill is about to enter his limo, he notices that a woman is looking at him. He has never seen her before, which is quite odd. Being the governor, he knows all of the voters in his little state. She has a mane of brown hair, eyes that are like sapphires, and she is wearing what looks like to be a white Sunday dress. There is some sort of belt that hugged her waist, and it accentuates her lovely curves. If Bill has to be honest, he’ll say he finds her pretty. Beautiful, even. But the woman looks like she’s confused, and yet she is fixated on him. She seems to be waging an internal battle with herself.

Bill decides to help her. He asked his security and his driver to wait for him, and he approaches the mysterious woman. She steps backward, afraid of the man approaching, but she does not run away. When Bill finally catches her, she just...

“I’ve never seen you in here, Ma’am,” says Bill, like the charming Southern boy that he is. “Are you from here?”

The woman shakes her head, the look of confusion still plastered on her face. “I don’t think so, Sir,” she said politely.

“Where do you come from then?”

The woman hesitates. “I-I don’t know, Sir.”

Bill quirks his eyebrows. “What is your name, then?”

It takes a full ten seconds before she answers. “Hillary.”

“Hillary...?”

“Hillary.”

Bill shakes his head. “No, Ma’am. I mean what’s your last name?”

Hillary blinks twice. “I...I don’t know, Sir.”

“You don’t know?” Huh. That’s odd.

Hillary shrugs. “I am telling the truth, Sir.”

“I think you have some form of amnesia,” he says.

“Amnesia?” Hillary has no idea what that means.

Oh boy. “Maybe I can help you with anything?” he better get rid of her soon.

“Thank you, Sir, but I have no idea what to do either,” Hillary says.

“Oh,” Bill is stuck in a weird situation with this woman. He looks down and sees that she’s barefoot. “Uh, don’t you have shoes or something?”

“No, Sir. I woke up like this.”

“I see,” says Bill, trying to appear unaffected by the ridiculousness of the situation. “Just...just let me get you a pair of slippers, okay?”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Wait here.”

Bill runs off to his house and stole a pair of his mother’s shoes. The pair doesn’t match Hillary’s dress but it’ll have to do.

Hillary is thankful for this kindness. “Thank you, Sir...uhm...”

“Bill, just call me Bill,” he says.

She smiles for the first time, and Bill feels like the gates of heaven have opened for him, and the angels are calling his name, the cherubs singing in chorus.

“Thank you, Bill,” Hillary says.

For the first time in his life, Bill believes that heaven is real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet-cute. Cliche, I know. But I wouldn't have it any other way. :)


	3. Be At My Side

Hillary watches Bill’s convoy leave his house for Little Rock. He is the first friendly voice that she has talked to after she wakes up, and frankly, she is glad that it’s him. Another man could have taken advantage of her precarious situation. She whispers a little prayer, grateful that God has given such a kind man to help her in this peculiar word.

She decides to walk around to see what she can do to discover about herself and her surroundings. She stares at the house which Bill came out of. Hillary notes how lovely the house is. It’s as if it’s inviting every person who passes by it to enter the humble abode. Hillary smiled, thinking how nice it is to have a house like that. She bets that the people in it must be lovely too.

Next to Bill’s house is one that is starkly different than the rest of the neighborhood. The house itself is as pretty as its neighbors, but Hillary felt that there is something lacking in it. She cannot put a finger on it, but her instincts have never betrayed her before.

An intrigued Hillary decides to take a closer look at the house. Since the house does not have a fence, it is not hard for her to take a peek inside. The windows are huge, but the curtains prevent her from seeing what’s inside.

She walked behind the house until she reaches the back door. There, she hears two voices, belonging to a man and a woman, talking to each other.

“We’ll have to do it tonight, Susan,” the man says.

“When everybody’s asleep. I don’t want this traced back to us,” says the woman.

“I know. If we’re careful, nobody will know.”

“But what if he makes a sound?”

Hillary crouched low by the door. Something tells her that these two are up to no good.

“Tie him in the bag first. He’ll stop crying eventually. And then we’ll dump him somewhere in the city,” the woman suggested.

Hillary’s heart is pounding, her breathing in deep gasps. There’s no doubt in her mind that these two are up to no good.

“Good idea. Let’s leave him for now and then get back here by 11?”

Eleven o’clock. Hillary has five hours to save an innocent soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the awfully slow pace. But I only have 500 words. LOL


	4. To Light and Guard

Hillary, holding a bundle wrapped in a blanket, runs toward the dark alley as fast as her feet can carry her. She tried not to look behind her, where a couple of police officers are chasing her. As she dashes away from the scurrying police, she holds the bundle tighter, determined to protect it from its cruel fate.

She reaches the dark alley and hides in it. She crouches behind the large dumpster and prays. _Please, please, let no one see us._ Hillary holds her breath as she hears the police draw closer.

“I swore I saw her here,” an officer says.

“Me too. Where’d she go?” says another.

“She vanished from plain sight!” an astonished one remarks.

Hillary closes her eyes and clutches the bundle as close to her as possible. She stills as she heard the footsteps get louder and louder.

“Nothing here, men. We better look for her somewhere else.”

Hillary hears the officers walk away, and warmth slowly returns to her ice cold hands. She lets out a deep sigh of relief and muttered another prayer of gratitude. She gently tucks her bundle in her arms and removes the blanket. A baby boy, who is soundly sleeping, greets her.

“Hello, little angel,” she coos. “You’re safe with me now.”

The baby seems to respond to her voice. He stirs in her arms, and he opens his eyes, wide with wonder. He smiles at her as if he knows that she is his friend. He reaches up for her nose and playfully pinches it. Both of them giggle.

As Hillary looks at the child in awe, she recalls the events that led to the epic police chase.

Around 10 in the evening, Hillary snuck behind the house where the baby lives. Luckily, the man and woman whom she had heard talking earlier were gone, and the house was left unlocked. She broke into the house. There is nothing uncommon or suspicious about the house, except for the nursery, which does not look anything like one. It was just an empty room with a pile of blankets inside. Lying on the pile was a silent, sickly baby, the same one Hillary is holding right now.

She realized that the man and the woman were talking about disposing of the baby, and it made her feel sick. Before anyone could see her, she quickly took the baby and snuck out of the house.

Unfortunately, the baby’s parents saw her, and they called the police to catch her. It led to the epic chase which brought her and the baby into this dark alleyway. Hillary is exhausted, but she doesn’t mind at all. After all, the baby’s smile is like adrenaline being shot to her veins, giving her life and energy with each giggle.

When she realizes that the police are gone, she walks back to the street. With the baby at hand, she needs to find a decent shelter for him. The first thing she thinks of is to leave him at an orphanage. Though she knows that it is the right thing to do, she can not just part from the baby. For some reason, she feels deeply connected to him. As if he is her own son.

But before Hillary can do anything, she hears a loud honk from behind. She turns around, and two sets of light blind her vision.

“What are you doing, walking at this time of the night?” Bill, the man she met earlier, is outside the motor carriage, his hands around his waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still burning with fever. Booooo.


	5. To Rule and Guide

Up in the Heavens, a crowd of angels cheers as they watch Hillary rescue the baby to safety. They hug each other and say prayers, happy and relieved that their compatriot was successful in her mission.

"Hillary! I've always known that she can do it!" an angel raised his first in celebration

"She might be stubborn, but she always sees things through," said another.

"Hillary should be proud of herself," a teary-eyed angel says.

“Yes!” the others agree.

In the middle of the festivities, the Elder Angel, Gabriel, remains sober.

“That’s enough, you all. Hillary did a great job, but we have a bigger problem at hand,” Gabriel says.

“What do you mean?” asks one of the angels.

“As you already know, it is forbidden for Hillary to descend to Earth by herself. Hillary violated this rule, and she must answer for her sin,” Gabriel explained.

“But she did it to protect the child she is sworn to protect! If she did not go down, the baby would have died!” one of the angels defends her.

Gabriel sighs. “I know, but we angels are always bound to obey. On top of that, she must return to us within 100 days.”

The angels fall silent as reality washed over them.

“When Hillary fell from Heaven, her memories of her previous life on Earth and as an angel were all wiped out.

“But somehow, she knew that she was supposed to save the baby,” one of the angels notes. “How did that happen?”

“I am not so sure myself, but somehow, it happened,” replies Gabriel.  “I think someone is guiding her. I am just not sure who.”

The angels look at each other, trying to figure out who it was who helped Hillary.

Another angel breaks the silence. “How does Hillary go back, and what will happen to her if she doesn’t?”

Gabriel’s face looks grim. “She has to die on Earth within 100 days so that she can return. If not, she will be doomed to suffer in Hell forever."

The angels gasped in horror.

“That’s terrible!”

 “Oh no, Hillary,” another starts to cry.

“How can we help her? We do not want her to suffer for eternity!”

Gabriel knows how strongly the other angels feel about Hilary. After all, she is one-of-a-kind.

“For now, all we can do is pray. Remember, our faith can move mountains. If our prayers were able to save that innocent baby’s life, then I am sure that we can get Hillary back to safety.”

* * *

Behind the commotion, Charles silently listens to Gabriel and the other angels.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Anthony, another angel, catches him. “You were whispering to her all along?”

Charles' response is an enigmatic smile.

“You are also the one who called the auburn haired man to rescue Hillary,” It isn’t a question, but a statement.

Charles simply closed his eyes. For now, Hillary is safe, and that’s all that mattered.  

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still sick :(


	6. Complete

Bill silently watches Hillary as she sings the baby to sleep inside the limo. To be honest, she is probably the worst singer he has ever heard, which says something because the folks in the rural areas aren’t exactly the best singers, but there is something in her voice that calms him. Somehow he feels…happy.

As soon as the baby falls asleep in her arms, Bill takes the opportunity to ask her some questions.

“Why did you take the baby?” he asks. “In the morning, police will be looking all over for you and the baby. We have to turn him over to child protective services.”

Hillary never breaks her gaze to the baby boy. “I don’t know. I just felt like it was my duty to save him. As soon as I heard what his parents were planning, I knew I had to do something. I just didn’t realize that the someone they were trying to dispose of was a baby.”

“Don’t you remember anything at all before I saw you earlier?” he asks.

Hillary shakes her head. “No, I don’t. I am sorry that I am not of much help.”

“That’s alright.” Bill scoots over so he can have a better look at the baby. “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” Hillary turns towards Bill to give him better access.

“Such a beautiful baby” he coos as he gently caresses the baby’s head. “I’ve always wanted one.”

“You don’t have a child?” she asks before she realizes how intrusive she was. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t remember anything, after all,” Bill replies, “I never knew my father. He died before I was born. I guess I’m like my father. I’ll never know what it feels like to have your own child.” A single drop of tear threatens to fall from his eye.

“It’s the best feeling in the world,” she says, holding the baby closer. “You’ll never want anything more.

“You had a child?” Bill asks, surprised by her words.

Hillary blinks. Where did that come from? “I…I don’t know. I just know what it felt.”

“Maybe you had a child before,” Bill suggests.

“Perhaps,” she says.

“Tell me more, please,” Bill pleads. “Tell me what it’s like to have a child.”

Hillary does not know where the feeling is coming from, but her heart is suddenly bursting with happiness.

“When you first hold your child, that is the moment that you feel that your life is complete,” says Hillary, who is gazing at the baby affectionately.  “You feel that there is nothing else in the world that matters, except for the life you are now holding in your hands. You are amazed because what you are holding is the greatest gift you will ever receive.”

Involuntarily, Bill squeezed her shoulder, pulling her closer, and his other hand rested on the baby’s forehead.

That moment, Bill feels what Hillary was talking about.

He feels complete.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update :( I am just beginning to recover from flu.


	7. Hell on Earth

Hillary, sleeping in one of the guest rooms in the Governor’s Mansion, tosses and turns in her bed as a series of erratic visions trouble what she hoped to be a restful night.

In her dream, she sees herself in the middle of a dark room, with several faceless women looking like 19th century nurses surrounding her. She lies on the bed, her legs spread open. She can feel the cold sweat dripping from her forehead and the searing pain in her belly that threatens to split her body into two.

“Push, Hillary. Push,” one of the nursed tells her.

And she does push. She pushes and pushes and pushes. She grunts and screams as she pushes the baby out from her womb. She wants this to end, but her energy is slowly being depleted.

“Hillary! I see the head of the baby! A little more push!”

Hillary takes a deep breath and with one long final push, the baby goes out of her womb and into the nurse’s arms. She closes her eyes, hearing the sound of the baby’s cry for the first time. Hearing her baby cry makes her forget that her husband will leave to fight the Civil War in a few weeks.

With not much energy left, Hillary falls asleep.

The dream changes. Now, Hillary is in a cemetery, with a faceless man holding the umbrella for her. In front of them is a single gray tombstone that read the words:

_Charles Rodham Jr._

_November 11, 1863 – November 14, 1863_  

For some reason, reading those words feel like a stab in her heart. It makes her legs week and her lungs suffocate. Her knees give up, and soon she finds herself collapsing on the grassy ground. But before she could fall, she feels a strong pair of steady hands catch her, wrapping her body as she cried into the man’s chest, drenching his coat with her tears.

“MY SON!”

Hillary bolts up from the bed, gasping for air and her eyes wet with tears. She looks around and realizes that she is still in the guest bedroom of the Governor’s Mansion. It is still dark. The sun hasn’t risen yet. The pain from the dream was enough to wake her, and she fears that she may see more horrible dreams when she returns to sleep.

Seconds later, she hears another sound of a baby crying. This time, it is from the baby the sleeping beside her, the same one she rescued a few hours ago. She gently scooped the baby in her arms and rocked him, singing a small tune, hoping that it will lull him to sleep. And thankfully, it did. The baby, sensing that his companion has already calmed down, yawns and immediately goes back to sleep.

Hillary watches the baby with great fascination. Somehow, looking at his face drained her of her worries. She remembers what Bill told her last night about her face lighting up whenever she looks at this nameless baby. She giggled. Apparently, her fondness for this baby is too obvious. She isn’t apologetic about it though. She adores the baby so much.

But in the midst of her elation, there is a nagging feeling that formed in the pit of her stomach. In a few hours, social workers will take the baby from her, like how fate seized her son from her arms.

She doesn’t think she can survive losing another baby.  


	8. A Gift from Heaven

Hillary stands on the balcony of the governor's mansion looking at the beautiful night sky. It has been a terrible day for her. After waking up from a nightmare, social workers from the state took the baby she rescued yesterday. Parting from him was like tearing her own heart out her own body. At first, she felt numb, and then the pain slowly seeped through every nerve in her body. She couldn't stop crying ever since. It was only when she gazed the stars that she calmed down a bit. She doesn't know why, but somehow, looking at the heavens eased the heartache that she felt. Hillary is not in the mood to find out why. She is just staring at the sky, her eyes sparkling with tears like the stars hanging above her.

Unbeknownst to her, a worried Bill emerges from behind and offers her a small box of tissues and a glass of water.

"You've been crying for so long," Bill says, handing the box of tissues to her.

"I'm sorry," Hillary sniffs. "I must have been a bother to you."

"Oh no, no. Don't think of that. I-I've never seen such a heartbreaking moment than when I saw you hand over the baby to that social worker," Bill says.

“I’d rather give up my arm than to lose him again,” Hillary says.

Bill’s eyes widen at her apparent seriousness and devotion to the baby. “Do you really feel that way?"

"I do," Hillary says, her eyes reflecting that absolute truth. "I don't know why. I know that I am not his mother, but something draws me towards him."

Maybe it is because her own son was forcibly taken from her.

Bill notices that she is blankly staring into space, and then tears start to trickle from her eyes. He may have only met her a day before and know absolutely nothing about her, but he feels like she is someone he has known for a long, long time.

Someone like his deceased wife.

Without thinking, he wipes her tears with the pad of his thumb and strokes her cheek as if it is made of delicate porcelain. Her skin flushed against his touch, making her warmth creep toward his fingertips. Suddenly, his heart beats a million miles a second, his eyes brighten. Bill never thought about he would feel that way towards Hillary, a strange woman who, from her own words, seems to have fallen from the sky. Bill is pretty sure that her story must not have been true but at that moment, it doesn’t matter.  

“Hillary…who are you?”

“My name….my name is Hillary Rodham,” her eyes lock into his, and somehow, the stars are shining brighter than before,  

“Hillary Rodham,” her name rolled on his tongue like sweet, golden honey.

“And you?” she says, her voice like in a trance.

“Bill Clinton,” he says.

“Bill,” she breathes his name. “You’re like an angel sent from heaven. Why are you so kind to me?”

Bill isn’t sure that he is an angel. After all, he has done terrible things in the past.

But what if the heavens sent her to him for a purpose?  

* * *

From above, Charles smiles as he watches as Hillary and Bill introduce themselves to each other for the first time. And unlike everything that miraculous that had happened on Hillary on Earth, Charles had nothing to do with this.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaaaaaaaah.


	9. A Second Chance

Bill and Hillary sit still on the couches of the Mansion’s receiving area where they are meeting with a local police officer and a state social worker. It has been a week since the baby was taken away from them. Bill, as governor, ordered the police and the social workers to give him regular updates on the baby, as vowed to Hillary that he would do everything to help the baby.

“First of all,” the officer says, “we will not press charges against Ms. Rodham.”

Her own personal welfare is the least of Hillary’s worries. Bill looks at her and he can tell that the police’s announcements didn’t relieve any apprehension that she was feeling. He gently rubbed her back with his large hand. His touch has an instant effect on her. Her heart beat slows down a bit, her muscles loosen.

“Second, we have an update on the investigation,” the officer declares, and both Bill and Hillary lean forward, their attention undivided. “We have found out that the baby is named James Dickson. He was living with his parents, who have confessed to the crimes Ms. Rodham have accused them of doing. Indeed they were going to throw the child way in the dumpster because they didn’t want it. We arrested them after their confession and rest assured, Governor and Ms. Rodham, that justice will be served.”

Hillary almost breaks into tears after the officer’s report, her hand covering her mouth. Bill happily hangs his arms around her shoulder and squeezes her. This is the best news they heard all week.

It is now the social worker’s turn to talk. “Governor, Ms. Rodham. After the police secured little James, he was turned over to our custody. Per our standard procedure, we have conducted some tests on him to ascertain the state of his health. Sir, Ma’am, I want you to brace yourselves for what I am about to say.”

Both Bill and Hillary’s faces are drained of color. Instinctively, Hillary covers Bill’s hand and holds it tightly like a lifeline.

“Everything in Little James is fine, with the exception of his heart. It turns out that his heart has a small hole, that’s why he’s weak and sickly. Our resident pediatrician says he has six months to live, tops, if he doesn’t undergo a heart surgery. Apparently, that is the same reason why his parents wanted to get rid of him. They don’t want to waste their effort caring for a sick baby who’ll die eventually.”

Both Bill and Hillary stifle their cries in front of the officer and the social worker. Neither expected to give such reaction about someone who wasn’t even family or a relative. Truth be told, James is nothing to them. He is just an ordinary baby.

An ordinary baby that changed their lives forever.

Clearing his throat, Bill says, “What can we do, Ma’am? I would like to personally attend to James’ needs. Do we have the necessary facilities to care for him?”

The social worker shakes her head sadly. “Unfortunately, Sir, we don’t. James requires special attention. We are in no shape to attend to his delicate needs.”

“But what if he lives in here? We will take care of him but he will still under your custody? I will provide for everything he needs.” Bill, for the first time, realizes the tightness of Hillary’s grip, and he presses her back.

Hillary blinks. Surely Bill isn’t serious of what he’s suggesting?

“Ms. Rodham shall be James’ nanny,” he continues. “The best doctors will see him. He will receive the best care. Everything will be done to make him better, under your supervision of course.”

That moment, Hillary could have launched herself into his arms, grateful for his unconditional love for the poor child.

“Of course, Governor,” the social worker says.

Hillary looks at Bill with genuine affection and trust. They lock eyes and everything seems to change. The heavens align, and the angels sing.

She has just fallen in love with him.


End file.
